Last Conformist Thing
by UndoneChaos
Summary: I figured Stan, Kyle, well… OK not Cartman, but… I figured someone would try to save me. And they did. Just not who I expected.
1. Chapter 1

**The big D: Idunown**

I don't know when. When I stopped believing, caring, protecting. I abandoned my loved ones at a weak point. I don't know why. Why I took the blade, sliced my wrists, watched the crimson blood leak from them. I don't know how. How I thought someone would stop me, save me, rescue me. I don't know. I figured Stan, Kyle, well… OK not Cartman, but… I figured someone would try to save me.

And they did. Just not who I expected.

I flinched slightly as the cigarette was pressed upon my left forearm, marking me. I watched the golden embers being put out against my snow white skin and sighed. One of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. The clove was flicked away, and a burn took its place on my pale arm.

I glanced up, locking my blue eyes with unexpected grey ones. I wanted to smile, but I was beyond that. The eyes told me not to. So I behaved.

Bringing my arm to my side, I leaned against the cold wall of the school, breathing in the smoky air around me. I dug around in my orange parka, bringing out a box of Marlboros and lighting one. Death stick between my lips, I locked eyes once more with my saviors. A pair of dark, _dark_ brown eyes, holding pain but a fatherly presence. Then the purple ones, warm like a mother's but with so much more fire. Black ones, the eyes of someone still a child.

And then those grey eyes. Holding nothing but empty wisps of a lost soul. I envied those grey eyes, so much better than my blue pair.

I took the group in as a whole, nodding to each separately while breathing in on my cigarette. Each giving a nod in response. And then I let slip the last conformist thing I vowed to say.

"Thank you."

**Should I continue? I don't know if I should. This could be a multi-chap or a one-shot.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Kill me for this, it's too short I know. But my dad is ragging me about dinner, so… I'll write later.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.**

"I tried calling him, texting him… Even luring him with money!" Kyle felt guilty at the last bit, but he wanted desperately to see his poor, homely friend again.

"Calm down, Kyle", Stan said, grabbing the boy by the shoulders to stop his frantic pacing. "We'll find him. Cartman, any luck?"

Cartman sat on the couch, cheesy poof bowl under one arm, remote slowly falling from the other's hand. He was fast asleep.

"I don't know why you asked for his help", Kyle groaned, wiggling out of his Super Best Friend's grasp. "He does nothing but sleep and eat all day!"

"But Kenny's his friend too! You think he would care somewhat!" Stan sighed and sat down next to Cartman, pushing the cheesy poofs up so that he would have space.

"He doesn't care about anyone, the fat bastard", Kyle sank to the ground, tears forming in his eyes. "It's been two weeks, Stan. Two weeks since Kenny… Disappeared. No trace of him anywhere."

"I know. I know, and I miss him! I want him back, just like old times." A horrible thought crossed Stan's mind at that moment. "What if he's dead, Kyle? Dead for good this time?"

Kyle gasped and brought his head up quickly. "No. He can't be!"

**So they're looking for him… I decided to continue this. I'm thinking about making it CuRed and Kenrietta… With some Style on the side… But I could do KennyXDylan too. What do you guys think**


	3. Chapter 3

∞**§∞I don't own∞§∞**

Tap tap tap. The sound of my claw-like black nails on desk as I wonder why the fuck I'm here. In class, that's where 'here' is. We're all here, in fact. McCormick made sure of that. It's a funny story, how we found him.

It was ten past one in the morning when we left Village Inn–it used to be called Benny's–and drove past him. His body lay on the side of the road, broken and bleeding. It was beautiful, but need repeat that to him.

Well we took him in, tended to his 'attempted suicide', and then we marked him. Just like we had to Georgie and Henri. We, meaning me and Evan. Well, I actually marked McCormick, but Ev did the others.

He complained for a while about the itch of the burn, but I shut him up. Mind as well not tell you how we–again me and Evan–managed that. I'll just say it involved a bit more blood and lots of screaming.

Anyway, back to class. The only reason we're in here is to watch McCormick read his poem. Well, listen. I'm too lazy to keep my grey eyes locked to his blue ones. Currently though, no one else is in the classroom. It's all of us and McCormick. That's it. I dare to say tat Evan and Henri are somewhat face-sucking in the back behind me, while Georgie is to my side. His face is hidden in his little black book of, well, whatever the fuck. I guess that means I'm the only one paying attention.

McCormick finishes his poem and looks at me. I hadn't heard a word of it, but I let my eyes fake a smile for him. I get up and walk to his side, placing my claws deep into his pale shoulder. He winces, but he's a bit of a masochist. I know he likes it, even if it's just a bit.

I lead him out of the classroom and down the school's hallway. When I said there was no one here, I meant it. It's Saturday on Summer break. No one would be. I lead him to the closet farthest from the room we were just in.

He glances at me, and I can tell–even if he doesn't show it–that he's nervous. I can understand why. It's my turn to mark him.

**So… That chapter is a good one, in my opinion. Should I continue**


	4. Chapter 4

Until I show everyone that I can seriously hurt,

they won't stop seriously hurting me.

Until I let everyone hear the tears I cry,

I'll keep hearing the rumors they spread.

Until I break down,

until I give up,

until I lose my calm demeanor,

I know that everyone'd be

better off with me dead.

I finish the curl on the 'e', ending Kenny's newfound tattoo. It reads "Nevermore", and is placed above his hip. He let's out the breath he had been holding. I smirk.

"How's that working for you? Did reciting that poem help you?" It helped me, at least, when I got my tattoo. It's a small, black rose on my left wrist. I got it there purposefully to cover the cuts that reminded me of my past.

"It stings!" Kenny complained. Aha, you have reached full Goth now, McCormick. "Is that it though? Evan's mark was this", he holds out his forearm, an X etched into it. "Henrietta's was… This", he shows me a black bead necklace hanging from his neck. "Oh, shit. And Georgie's, well, Georgie gave me a poem book."

"Sounds like everyone has marked you." I nodded as if I understood.

"Yeah. So, then that's it though?" I smirk. Innocence is a funny thing.

"Oh, no. I'm not halfway done with you. See, don't tell Ev, but I fancy myself the little _leader_ of our group. And being the leader, I leave the biggest impact." I then grabbed his face and crashed my lips to his. "Open up."

…

"The GOTHS? Oh…" Kyle sank to his knees against the wall, moaning in sorrow. "You know how overprotective they are. We'll never get him back! Unless… Stan, you do it!"

"Me?" I cried, disbelieving. "Just because I was in their little 'clan', doesn't mean I can get Ken back!"

"Yes, yes it does! Now come on!" Kyle got up off the wall and walked towards me, arm outstretched. I rolled my eyes.

"Stan!" He smacked me. "This is serious! You're coming with me to get Kenny back whether you like it or not!" The redhead then started to drag me off, and I sighed. Why does Kyle have to be so naïve?

**HAH! CHAPTER FOUR! On your input, I can put the smutty Ken X Dyl scene in the story, or do it separate. What'cha think**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dun Uwn**

"OK… OK… OK. OK-OK-OK. O–" I slapped my hand over Kyle's mouth before he could say anything else.

"Shut up, would you? _You_ don't even have to say anything! _I_ do! So just… Be quiet!" I sighed and let my shoulders slump. "Fuck, Kyle. Why do you think Ken did it? Go with the Goths, I mean. He seemed fine!"

"That's what I'm worried about, Stan. Just because people seem fine on the outside, doesn't mean they're fine on the inside. It's like an old, run down building. You can fix the exterior up, paint it, rebuild it, you know. But you do nothing to the inside. Now what's some passer-by gonna think? They're gonna think that the house is new and inhabited! But if they took one second to look at the inside, they'd see–"

"Then why didn't you look, Kyle? Why didn't _you_ look on the inside? Hmm?" I spat, cutting off Kyle's little rant. I glared at him.

Hurt flashed across Kyle's emerald eyes and he stopped abruptly, taking in a shaky breath. "I–Uh. I–"

"That's what I thought. And Ken'll say the same if you rant that to him, so don't go running your mouth!" Kyle failed to hold in a choky sob, and I sighed. "I'm sorry, Ky. I miss him too. We're gonna get him back, OK? We are. We are. I promise."

Kyle nodded and leaned into my shoulder, blinking back tears. "Yeah, you're right. Stan?" I looked down at him.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You really are my Super Best Friend", he sighed, and with that as his last word, laced his fingers through mine. Sometimes I wonder about Kyle, but I won't let that get to me now. I'm happy to be here, content in this moment with my Super Best of Super Bests.

…

I grounded as Dylan clapped his surprisingly strong hand over my wrists, holding them to the wall. "Fuck, assmunch, I'll go willingly! No reason to get all…" I fought against my human binds. "Snippy."

"Well–" he sighed. "Well then it wouldn't be as much fun!"

"No, it'd be funner."

"Funner isn't a word, dumbass."

"Is that my new pet name now? Dumbass?"

"Look! You left those god-awful conformist poser retards for us, right?" Dylan spat at me. I growled.

"No. _You_ saved me. I didn't run to you, _you_ saved me. This wasn't my choice."

"Whatever happened to going willingly?" He let go of the hold on my wrists and I dropped my arms, cracking my knuckles against my palm.

"Why would I go willingly?"

"Ah! You just said you would!" I really shouldn't be pushing my luck here, but Goth boy getting frazzled is so… Sexy.

I leaned around to bite at Dylan's neck. "Yeah, you're right. I did. So fuck me, Goth boy, right into this wall. Name me, own me, _mark me_ as your own." I pulled away and leaned against the wall, raising my arms back up.

Dylan just sputtered. I think he was a bit confused, for the fact that we had kind of switched rolls.

"Well…?" I asked impatiently. "Or am I gonna haf'ta fuck you?"

"McCormick, you're a real wise-ass. You know that?"

"Ugh", I shuttered. "Now you just sound like my dad."

"I'm warning you. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way."

"You've never done this before." Not a question, more like an analyzation.

"Well, duh no! Otherwise, _somethingwouldhavealreadyhap pened_." I laughed.

"I know. So I'll give you this, just once."

"What?" he asked confused. I smirked.

"Hold 'em down tighter, or they'll get away." I then slipped my hands out of his grasp, yet again, furthering my point.

"You're dead, McCormick."

"Alright. Now I'm starting to think you ARE my dad. Weird." I then leaned forward and kissed him, just lightly. "Nah, you don't ease enough like booze, your cigarettes are too fancy, and, well frankly, you just taste like Darkness." I then kissed him again, forcing my way into his mouth.

Guess that confused him too, cuz he just kinda… Stood there like he'd seen a rainbow fall from the sky. But I got him to kiss me back, and soon enough we were on the floor of the school's janitor closet, pants off, and with his hand up my shirt.

**Hah. I deprived you sick freaks from smut once again! I promise I'll write it, I'm just… Not feeling very smutty today. Even though I just read a 30k orgy fic with Ken, Ky, Stan, Buttercup, and fatass**


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